Wednesday, March 28, 2012

It's Jason, the new and formerly used-to-be-proud-owner of what was apparently your old phone number...

Pay your electric bill, you goddamn lazy bitch.

Also, some dude named Milo is in love with you, but refuses to buy you a steak and lobster dinner. So it's not actually love, probably just lust, and you're better off without him knowing your new number, whatever that may be, because you apparently haven't given it to either your grandmother or birth mother either.

As a side note, your *birth* mother claims to be the "biggest bi in the bx." I'm assuming that's either "biggest bisexual in the Bronx" or the "biggest bitch in the Bronx." Either way, she's a nasty bitch who can't spell and can't hold a decent conversation, not to mention very quick to jump on the four-letter-words bandwagon. I'm thinking the very fact that she uses the term "birth mother" means you were lucky to have not been raised by such a vehemently bad speller, not to mention a mother with the mouth of an uncouth sailor. And no matter which way you slice it, as she seems so proud to be the biggest something, when you do finally get in touch with her, tell her to join the biggest loser. Something tells me she'd get rave reviews for being a big something...

Seriously, though, call your grandmother. She's very worried--at least, so I gather from the half-broken English.

And before I forget?

Pay your electric bill, you goddamn lazy bitch.

I figure sooner or later, you will learn how to inform your loved one's of your new where-about's and learn to be a responsible adult and actually fulfill your monetary obligations. When that time comes, call your old number, and I'll congratulate you on finally stepping up and being a decent human being...

Until that time comes, however, you are on my shit list (as is your mother who threatened my life [I "lol"d at her, pissing her off even further]), and I have since started blocking the numbers of your various contacts and loved ones...

Monday, March 26, 2012

So, honestly, where do these moneyless homeless people get the markers? Do they hold up blank pieces of cardboard until someone donates a marker, and then they get to come up with whatever it is they're begging for? Don't get me wrong--I know they aren't homeless because they're lazy, or stupid, or what-have-you. It sometimes happens to the best of people! But seriously--where are they getting the markers? Is there a "Place a Marker/Take a Marker" bin near homeless alleys? Do they save up that first donation just to buy a pack at the dollar store? What's the deal there? Maybe Sharpie has some type of tax-write-off deal for donating markers to the needy? Who knows...

Anybody? Anybody? Bueller? Bueller?

Then there are the shitheads that pull out in front of you just to slam on the brakes twenty-five feet further down the road and make you slam on the brakes again while they wait to make that all-important left turn into the adult bookstore... Do they charge late fees at adult bookstores? Is it imperative you not wait for an actual break in traffic because those extra five minutes will mean Debbie Does Dallaswon't be rented by someone in a desperate way because you were that late in returning it? And why are they called adult bookstores when really they are adult video stores? Is that just a PA thing?

Anybody? Anybody? Bueller? Bueller?

And, I'm not sure why this crosses my mind at this moment, but I betcha there's a whole subculture of turtles that just don't get that turtlenecks are not made from actual turtle necks, and thus their protests are more than just a tad useless... But it does beg the question as to where the turtles are getting their markers for their protest signs...

Irregardless (which is just a fancy way of saying "Regardless"...), in five more days I blow this popsicle stand (which is a "I'm hiding my true emotions" way of saying "Sweet Jesus I'm gonna miss these people, but not the weather"...), and I still have so much to do that I honestly shouldn't be blogging at this moment, but I find it easier to deal with emotion by spewing the written word... Which is odd as I was told just a few short days ago that communication is my "biggest issue."

Figures... I may actually have to stop a homeless guy and ask him where he gets the markers. I may take up cardboard signage instead of blogging... THEN we'll see who can't communicate...

Be that as it may, as I look forward to my new life, my new beau (not to be confused with an old beau named Beaux who is coming to Florida with me--also known to the current roomie as that black-headed step child...), my new digs, and my new office, I can't help but grin ear to ear, while simultaneously shedding a tear...

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Well, a lot of things are official, truth be told... Whether it be school zone speed limits (annoying), mandatory car insurance (a joke), or the fact that it's still illegal to kill morons (extremely annoying)...

I now have an apartment in Florida, of which I am now paying the electric bill, even though my ass doesn't move in for another 16 days...

Did I mention I was excited? One more "just because I can" shot of the now-becoming-infamous purple tub:

Other items that fall in the "Really Only of Interest to Me" category include:

an ex that thinks I'm being a dick when in fact I'm just trying to come across as coldly-detached-yet-civil,

a certain blue-eyed hunk-a-hunk-a burning sexy waiting for me to arrive in said southern portion of the United States (Florida, for those of you who haven't been paying attention [for SHAME!!]), and

an excitedly-nervous feeling deep, deep, deep down in the pit of my stomach...

Told ya... the "Really Only of Interest to Me" category...

As another side note that should be "official" in one capacity or another: I really really miss busting on fundies for being dumb asses, and the list of saved links is so goddamn long at this point, I'll have to forgo busting on some of the older stories when I finally do find the time to bust their chops, if only because the stories are older than, say, 6 months, and you've probably already heard about the sheer dumb-assedness of said stories, and thus it would be completely pointless to blog about said dumb-assedness...

Speaking of dumb asses...

Really?

Yes, really...

I'm still not sure how it happened... But I apparently spent the last 13 years of my life with a paranoid-delusional who thinks not only that I'm a dick who can't think for himself and simply lives to listen to what others have to say until I form an opinion of my own (and honestly, I refuse to turn this blog into a "Guess what the Ex Said Now" blog...), but if I don't vent here and get it all out, when I do reply to his latest email, I'll simply become the hurtful dick he thinks I am, and I so don't want to go down that road--ergo, I vent here, then email him later (not that he isn't reading this anyway, but there you are--a no-win situation...).

Saturday, March 10, 2012

And it isn't the butter knife, or the carving knife, or the fillet knife, but the steak knife...

And your heart is the steak...

(Granted, this probably isn't a post for vegans...)

But the feeling is there...

And all that can go through your head is, "I'm usually so rational, so reasoned, so analytical..."

But there it is...

and you can't not take that chance and run with it. Because it feels right, and it seems right, and you were so alone and so miserable for so long that if you don't jump at the chance, you will regret it, and you know it will be a mistake if you don't...

And you can't really explain it, because it doesn't make sense in a logical, rational way...

And your friends and your family, wanting to hope for the best for you, but also not wanting you to dive off a cliff only to realize no one put up the net? You see that concern and you see that love, and you love them for it...

But you have to go for it...

I spent so many years waiting for someone else, so many years waiting, hoping, trying to help and...

And then you had to leave...

And your heart broke all over again because you knew it was final, it was the end, and you thought, "Well, it's just not meant to be..."

And it may be a rebound, but you're pretty sure it isn't, but feelings are fickle things, and your mind reels and your heart sputters and your feet tap in nervous happiness, and the potential and hope for beautiful, wonderful things is there and the faith you thought you lost is there again, and it's screaming at you, "YES! YES! You need to do this! You need to be there, you need to make this happen!"...

I'm falling...

I'm 99% sure I'll be caught...

But again, it is falling...

And it's scary and nerve-wracking and emotionally raw and very new and exciting and...

And there it is...

Falling...

and enjoying it...

Anne Shirley: Good morning, Mrs. Harris. Mrs. Harris: Walking as if we owned the world, are we? Anne Shirley: So I do.Anne Shirley: I feel as though someone's handed me the moon... and I don't exactly know what to do with it.

"In a time long lost, on an Earth you wouldn't recognize, before humanity, before time, before legend... Here is why you cannot chase rainbows, my child..."

***

"Look, it's really quite simple," the leprechaun said, slowly, enunciating each syllable. "Take the ax there, in your hand, and--" He lifted his arms up, and brought them down swiftly. "--slice the rainbow! Any idiot could do it."

The troll nodded, then, after processing the words, grunted. "Then you chop light," it muttered authoritatively. "I no need to do it."

The leprechaun sighed. "Yes, as I explained, you do need to do it. I get the gold, you get your bridge back! See?" he said, exasperated, pointing toward the clearing on the edge of the forest.

The troll gazed up from the shadows of the trees toward the rainbow of light spilling into the clearing just beyond. Distantly, beyond the shimmer, he could make out the bridge--his bridge, his home--the path to which was now blocked by the cascading colors.

The leprechaun sighed impatiently as he watched a tear collect in the corner of the troll's eye. "None of that now, you big ape," he snapped. "What are you, some kind of fairy like me? You're a troll! Act like it!"

"Miss bridge."

"And as soon as you slice through the Sky Queen's color shield, you'll get it back... Yes?" He nodded, as if nodding himself meant the troll would nod, and hence his point would be made.

The troll pondered the words of the small green man. He'd seen the pretty lights before. He saw what happened to other trolls, other axes. It wasn't pretty when one tried to break through the Sky Queen's light, whether it was to get at her gold, or simply to access a path or a road or a home...

Not. Pretty. At all.

He was strong. He knew this. He'd been the one, after all, who had finally knocked the Large Billy Goat Gruff down to size--and hence had a nice meal for weeks! He was the troll with the largest bridge in the oldest forest for a reason! Every little trollette for a thousand miles was his offspring! He, Tünder Troll, was king here!

But was that enough?

He pondered still.

The leprechaun, aware now after several of these types of moments, pulled out a pipe, stuffed it with tobacco, and arranged some moss at the base of a tree for a nice smoke and a nap. This, after all, could take a while. Trolls never came out of complex thoughts quickly, easily, or sometimes at all...

And thus was quite surprised when Tünder began strolling out of the trees toward the end of the rainbow. "Tünder? Buddy? You're really going to...? Yippee! That's right big guy! Go for it! Swing that ax! Save your bridge!" He bounded and leaped from branch to branch, stump to tree, grass to sky! This was it! This was the moment he got his gold back from the sky bitch!

He bounced along behind the ponderous beast, cheering and babbling, and thus was caught completely unawares when Tünder stopped--and he ran face-first into the troll's nether side.

Before the light, shimmering brighter than any color behind her, stood the Sky Queen. She nodded once, sagely, slowly, as the unlikely pair acknowledged her with astonished eyes. "Duncan, you silly little thief," she said, meeting his light green eyes with her steely blue gaze. "You dare to try to attack the light with this brute?"

"Why... What...? Me? No, gosh, no," the leprechaun tittered nervously, bouncing from foot to foot nervously. "I was just... Trying to prevent him, you see, from... From, you know... I told him there were other bridges..." he trailed off.

"Hmm, yes, I see," she said, turning her head ever so slightly. "But as your noble small friend pointed out, there are, indeed, other bridges. And this, at the moment, is where my treasures need to be stored."

She mistook his silence for uncomprehension. "You see," she started again, speaking more slowly, a wary eye on the leprechaun, "there's just no way to store gold in the heavens. Thus, I am forced to keep it here, on your land. It is not up to me where the rainbow lands, nor up to me when it changes location.

"So you see, my lumbering giant, sooner or later, you will have your bridge back. There's no need for violence. You just need patience, that's all. Sooner or later, the heavens will shift and the rainbow will store my treasures elsewhere!" she finished brightly.

Duncan had now slipped up on to the troll's shoulder and whispered vehemently: "She's scared, you see? She knows you can do it, she knows you can destroy the rainbow and get to your bridge! You can do it!"

"Silence, you vile little sprite!" she cried, stamping her scepter, causing the ground to tremble. "Take one more step toward the light and it will be considered an act of war!"

Tünder regained his balance, considering. Duncan, having fallen from the troll's shoulders, dusted off his normally tidy green suit.

"You've no right!" Duncan shouted, picking a leaf out of his beard. "This, this is our land! You send down your light, blocking creatures from their homes, their lives! I know why your rainbow lands where it does! I know about your thieving little light shield! Wherever there's gold, suddenly the light shows up, suddenly the land is deprived of it's metals and gems! You think we're stupid? You think we're just going to let you have it all? I don't think so, Highness!" he finished, spitting out the honorary term like poison.

She smirked and waved her scepter threateningly toward the green fairy creature.

Then Tünder stepped forward once more, raising his mighty ax.

"You wouldn't dare!" she sneered. She took a step back as the troll came closer. "You? You really think you'll be the one?" She laughed evilly, maniacally, then, with a quick motion, spun her scepter and launched a beam of light directly at the troll's chest.

It slammed and scattered as it struck--but still he came forward, ax raised. "My bridge," was all he said, as if acknowledging the blow as nothing more than conversation.

Again she attacked, her brow beginning to sweat with nervousness. Another beam of light shimmered from her scepter, again slamming into the troll's chest.

Still he plodded forward, ax held high resolutely, every step precisely measured.

She continued backing away, continued blasting light at the beast to no avail. When at last she could back no further, trapped against the rainbow shield, she fixed her eyes on Duncan. "You! You will pay dearly!" she sneered.

"Argh!" she screamed, and, sending another bolt of light in their general direction, grabbed the red light of the rainbow and zipped up out of sight.

Tünder, having tuned out the noise and light of the screaming queen and the leprechaun on his back, reached the rainbow. With one last tensing of the shoulders, he let out a primal grunt and swung the ax with all his might.

Light shattered in silence. Blinded, the troll staggered back, dropping his ax, hands shielding his eyes. Duncan ran screaming for the trees. A giant sound, like thunder multiplied, boomed across them, sending them flying to the ground.

It was a few minutes before either one of them sat up.

Duncan rubbed his eyes. There, in all it's pure beauty, stood a gigantic iron pot filled with gold! He screamed again, this time with unmitigated joy. "It's mine! Yes, yes, yes! Tünder, you did it! You did it! Look!" Duncan leaped straight up into the air and dived right into the gems and coins. "Woo-hoo!" he shouted again, and began laughing uncontrollably.

Tünder smiled. Troll smiles are ugly things to say the least, and Duncan cringed, gold temporarily forgotten by the sight of rotted teeth. Tünder didn't notice however, in his joy to race back under his bridge. His home.

***

... and this is why you can never find the end of the rainbow, my child. Chase all you want, but that gold is gone, and when Tünder swung his mighty ax, he not only got to go home again, he forever prevented the Sky Queen from being able to steal from us on earth again... Rainbows no longer touch the earth, my child. And they never will again...